Space Married
by Carmarie
Summary: A few ficlets for our favorite OTP, Kanan and Hera. The ficlets are self-contained and in no particular order. Consider this complete, but updates will come as I feel like it :) Rated K overall with content warnings posted at the beginning of each chapter.
1. Stitches

_CW: Stitches, alcohol_

* * *

"Ow!" Kanan sucked in the word with a sharp gasp and jerked his hand back, nearly whacking the bed frame with his elbow. He and Hera were sitting on his bed, examining a particularly nasty gash on his palm. "That _hurt_!"

Hera tugged it back, scowling in response at his hand. "Well, if you'd stop _wiggling_ , this would be a lot easier for both of us, love."

Kanan groaned in exasperation and looked away as she dabbed disinfectant on his palm. "I think I need another shot," he muttered.

"Be my guest," Hera replied, and passed him the nearly-empty bottle of liquor without looking up. There couldn't have been more than two shots left in there- was Zeb getting into his secret supply again?

Kanan knocked it back without another thought, swallowing with a shudder. "Okay. I'm ready."

Hera looked up at him teasingly. "Are you sure?" she asked as she held up the needle and tweezers tauntingly.

"Ugh." He shivered. "Just do it."

"You big baby," she said, grinning.

"Do you know what? The next vagabond we pick up is gonna be a medical droid. I swear, Hera. You have _way_ too much fun with this."

"Do not," she said as a sterilized sewing needle pierced his skin. "Your palms are getting sweaty."

"I don't- like- needles," he said through gritted teeth.

"You'd be a weirdo if you did," Hera replied airily.

"Don't we-" he hissed as he felt the thread tug through his skin- "don't we have any more bacta patches?"

"Ran out last week. Come on. I'll be done in a minute."

"Naughh," he groaned acidly, staring pointedly into the corner. He was careful to hold his palm far away from him to keep it out of his field of view.

"Look, this isn't so bad, huh? Think of your Jedi tricks. Maybe you should've meditated beforehand instead of downing a few shots. But I guess old habits die hard," she joked. "We'll try that next time, huh? Anyway, doesn't matter. Tell me what you were fixing when this happened."

Her voice was so soothing. He felt shaky, but Hera's voice was so calming. Kanan didn't want to reply. If he was talking, it meant that _she_ wasn't.

"You talk," he grunted, hardly able to manage anything else.

Hera chuckled. She knew. She understood. "Okay. I'm gonna guess … that you were fixing the coolant pump on the Phantom, huh? From when I scraped the underbelly? I never did get around to fixing that properly. Was it that?"

Kanan shook his head. His hand still prickled, but he did his best to focus on her voice instead.

"All right, maybe it was the trivalve assembly? Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I had to make an emergency landing on Sullust the last time that broke? Oh, speaking of Sullust… We ought to check up on Zaluna soon. It's been a little while. I don't think she's met our most recent additions to the crew yet."

Hera paused to concentrate for a moment, steady fingers resting lightly on his hand while she worked.

She continued on smoothly. "I bet she'd love to meet Sabine. Even though she's blind now… You know what? I'm sure she'd love to hear Sabine talk about all the colors she uses in her paintings. Not to mention her bombs. Whew, Zal will sure get a kick out of hearing about those!" Hera laughed at the thought. "Good old Zal. I bet she's doing just fine. How are _you_ doing?"

"'M okay," Kanan said stoically.

"Good. I'm finished. You can open your eyes now, love."

"Oh." Kanan cracked his eyes open. He'd hardly noticed he'd squeezed them shut in the first place.

"See?" she exclaimed with mock enthusiasm, bending his arm at the elbow for him to look at his own battered palm.

Kanan squirmed and looked away. "I'll take your word for it."

Hera laughed at him. She laid a piece of gauze over the wound and wrapped a bandage around up to his wrist. "All done," she said, but she didn't let go of his hand. "Anything else I can do to make it better?"

Kanan felt a smile creep across his face. Now the alcohol was starting to hit him, and he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Well, maybe I can think of one thing…"

Hera smiled. "I can too," she said, and leaned in to brush his cheek with the back of her fingernails.

"I really don't know what I'd do without you," Kanan said quietly. "You're amazing."

"I know," she said, and when she kissed him he forgot about the stitches completely.


	2. Busted

_CW: Implied/referenced sex and nakedness._

* * *

"Hera? Are you in here?" Ezra thumped his fist on the door.

Kanan and Hera froze, and their eyes met in a moment of terror. The kids weren't supposed to be back for another hour! How had they not even noticed Ezra boarding the ship? And had he heard… ?

Color rose in Hera's cheeks as they lay there quivering, still quite tangled up in each other and hardly daring to take another breath.

"There's someone who's asking to talk to you!" called Ezra insistently. An instant later, Kanan and Hera rolled off the bed and scrambled for their clothes. "Are you in-"

"J-just a minute!" Hera stammered as she tugged a shirt back over her head.

It was Kanan's shirt. He made urgent silent gestures, shaking his hands in front of her to demand it back. She was too busy shoving her feet through her pant legs to notice, and Kanan frantically looked around for his own.

"Uh, like now?" Two light thuds against the door told Kanan that Ezra had pressed his hands, and probably his ear, against the door. "Everything okay in there?"

Kanan rolled his eyes. The kid was clueless. He aimed to keep it that way about his and Hera's relationship, but…

"It's fine I'll be right out one second!" Flustered, Hera sputtered words together and swatted at the air near Kanan as he stumbled to pull his pants back on. Her eyes were wide and desperately commanding as she pointed to the closet, and Kanan tripped inside hurriedly. Hera kicked excess clothes they'd missed under the bed as she yanked her lekku through the holes in her flight cap.

She looked fleetingly at Kanan. He gave her a thumbs up as he flattened himself against the back of the closet. Not bad work for ten seconds' notice.

From between two jumpsuits Kanan watched Hera's door hiss open. Ezra nearly fell ungracefully inside. Kanan's eyes slid shut as he fought the urge to connect his palm with his forehead exasperatedly. They'd have to keep working on balance. Still.

"Who's asking for me?" Hera asked.

"A… guy we met at the market," replied Ezra suspiciously. "Isn't that Kanan's shirt?"

Hera tutted like it was obvious. "No," she said easily. There was still a slight blush in her face, but her composure had returned. _Thank the stars for Hera_ , Kanan thought. "Well, come on! Let's not keep him waiting," Hera said purposefully, and started to the left down the hall. The door slid shut behind her, but not before Kanan caught a glimpse of Ezra bounding after her.

He waited until the clumping of their footsteps down the hall disappeared before stepping out of Hera's closet. Phew. That had been a close one.

Gathering his remaining clothes in his arms, he listened for a moment at the door. He was still shirtless and still breathless and shaky from- ugh. They'd have to be more careful next time. Kanan summoned his nerve and hoped for the best, then opened the door.

He tiptoed out of Hera's bedroom and ducked to the right down the hall… but not before striding headlong against a nonchalant Lasat casually leaning against the wall and pretending to examine his fingernails.

With an eyebrow cocked, Zeb looked down at Kanan, who froze. The Lasat bared his sharp teeth in a toothy grin.

Kanan deflated as his deeply-held breath left him in one long exhale.

"Busted," said Zeb.


	3. Starstruck

"Can we go?" Sabine batted her eyelashes and grinned widely. "Ple-e-ease?"

"Yeah, we never go anywhere _fun_ ," said Zeb sarcastically.

Sabine elbowed him. "It's a once in a lifetime exhibition," she said, beginning to speak animatedly with her hands. "Don't tell me neither of you know who Jaynor of Bith is?"

"I know who Jaynor of Bith is," Ezra piped up.

Sabine ignored him as she stared pleadingly at Kanan and Hera.

"I'm going to guess he's a Bith," said Kanan dryly.

"Duh."

"So," said Zeb, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, "where exactly is this exhibition anyway?"

"Oh, it's…"

"Don't tell me: Clak'dor VII."

Sabine grinned again. So Jaynor of Bith would indeed be holding his once-in-a-lifetime exhibition on his home world. She nodded cheekily.

Kanan sighed. It was another Outer Rim world, but not terribly far out of their way.

"You know what, Sabine?" asked Hera, putting a hand on a hip and shaking her head, smiling softly. "If this exhibition is so important to you, we can go."

"Yes!" Sabine pumped her fist. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Chopper made a celebratory whoop, twisting both his arms in the air.

"Chopper, you don't even like art. What do you care?" Ezra said, lightly pushing the droid with his foot.

Sabine threw Ezra a look he didn't catch, and Kanan tried not to laugh.

In a matter of hours they touched down on Clak'dor VII. Sabine had already planned out the day's itinerary and carefully mapped a route from the spaceport to the exhibition hall in the capital city. She could hardly contain her excitement when they landed, and gathered everyone up in the cargo bay before they left.

"Kanan, aren't you going to come?"

"Nah," said Kanan, stifling a fake yawn. "I think I'll take a nap." Jaynor of Bith was noted for revolutionary sentiment. The last thing Kanan wanted to think about right now was any sort of rebellion at all. He was tired of it at the moment.

"Well, okay…" said Sabine. "But you're missing out! Come on, Chop, I'm gonna need you to capture all this on hologram. Let's go!" She raced off with Chopper in tow, and waved over her shoulder with a gleeful wiggle of her fingers.

"Zeb, keep an eye on her, would you?" Hera asked, laying a hand on Zeb's thick arm as she watched the Mandalorian girl and the astromech run ahead.

"As always," he said knowingly, and followed her.

"Hey, I wanna go!" Ezra called. "Wait up! Kanan, I can go, right?"

Kanan chuckled. He had a few Jedi training exercises planned for the day, but they could wait. "Go ahead, kid." Without another word Ezra scrambled off after Zeb and Sabine.

Finally, a moment of quiet. Kanan watched them go and shook his head. "There go our delinquent children," he commented to Hera.

Her right arm threaded beneath his left and she laid a slender hand against the small of his back. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to go look at a few paintings, too."

Kanan shrugged, lifting his left arm to drape over her shoulder. He turned his head into hers, dropping his voice. "Maybe not. But I've got all the art I need right here."


	4. Shopping

"I need to look effortless, but powerful," Hera added after a long list of other requirements and conditions for her desired new formal wear.

"Uh, that's nice, Hera, but I'm really not the fashion expert you're looking for," Kanan grumbled, wondering why she couldn't have brought _Sabine_ instead of him.

"Because I value your opinion," she said good-naturedly, " _and_ because your immediate reaction will tell me what every man at that banquet is going to be thinking."

 _What, that she could wear a greasy pilot's jumpsuit and still look like a knockout?_ Kanan thought, but he kept his mouth shut.

It was a very formal event Hera was going to: a banquet celebrating the promotion of an Imperial officer. Fulcrum – no, Ahsoka, who had once been a Jedi (Kanan vowed to sort out that issue with her later) – had suggested that Hera be there.

Kanan had protested. Hera had to go undercover in Imperial territory alone? But Ful-Ahsoka had insisted. Besides, since they were both wanted on Lothal for their "insurrectionist activity," being seen together at an Imperial function might get them noticed. It was less risky with only one appearing, and Hera was easily the more politically-savvy between them. To pragmatic Ahsoka, Hera was obviously the best candidate to attend. Kanan knew Hera was capable of protecting herself, of course, but the thought of her being dangled in front of all of those Imps didn't sit so well with him…

Nevertheless they found themselves on Alderaan, shopping on the fledgling rebellion's dollar for the perfect outfit for Hera. Kanan fidgeted in the lift, soaring skyward, on Hera's right. Being in a small space for an extended period of time always made him antsy.

Mercifully, the lift began to decelerate, and glided to a halt. The doors whooshed open with a soft ding.

"I guess this is it," Hera said, and led the way out of the lift. Relieved to see that the lobby opened into a spacious atrium, Kanan gladly followed.

All around them were store fronts and displays selling various products. Shops were organized in neat rows and were contained in their own little units; they were stacked tidily on top of each other and spanned with gleaming walkways that were lit with soft glowing lamps. It bustled with people of all different species. It was unlike markets on Lothal, Garel, or Gorse. No, Outer Rim markets looked kitschy and dirty compared to Core World shopping malls. It had been a while since Kanan had last found himself in one of these.

And they still gave him a headache.

"Shall we?" he said resignedly, offering Hera his arm.

She took it coyly and they were off to find the formal department.

For what felt like hours she tried on dress after dress. They were beautiful, sure, and Kanan liked each one on her well enough. But Hera hadn't been satisfied, and had dragged Kanan to store after store looking for the perfect one.

"I don't get it," said Kanan. " _That_ one was effortless."

"And what exactly does an effortless dress look like?"

"Uh, I don't know. Effortless. And..." What was the other condition? "Powerful? Yeah. Effortless and _powerful_."

"So you _do_ listen when I talk." Hera rolled her eyes at him. There was no pulling the wool over her eyes.

"Just go back and get one of those other ones you tried on. They were all nice," Kanan suggested.

"Actually, there's one more place I want to try…" Hera looked across the way at another store.

"All right," Kanan said with a sigh. He hoped they wouldn't be there all day.

He sat down while he waited for Hera to comb through racks of clothes with the droid attendant to pick which one she wanted. She disappeared into a fitting room without him noticing. Kanan found his mind drifting back to Ahsoka's sudden reveal and wondering where in the galaxy she'd been for the last fifteen years…

But he was interrupted by the faint "ahem" of a clearing throat and when he looked up, his jaw dropped.

There was Hera, looking the best he had _ever_ seen her – in a long black dress that might as well have been made for her. His eyes ran her up and down- at the top it was beaded with gold, star-like gems that thinned apart from each other going down, and at the hem it rippled softly around those perfect green legs... It looked like she was wearing the very fabric of space _itself-_

"I take it that's a yes?" Hera asked as she twirled in the dress.

"Whoa…" breathed Kanan. Effortless and powerful. Now he understood. "You… you look amazing," he said.

"Think I can turn a few heads?" Hera asked, settling her hands on her hips with a brazen grin spreading across her face.

"More than a few," said Kanan, running a hand over his mouth and beard slowly.

"Good," she said, "because I have to catch the attention of a certain-"

For once, Kanan's desire to hear everything her beautiful voice said had completely shut down. The only sense he could pay attention to was sight, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Hera, Kanan decided, looked as good in anything as she did in nothing.

He found himself on his feet, standing in front of her, staring deep into her bright green eyes.

"Kanan, aren't you listening?"

"Give me a minute," he muttered. He cupped his hands around her face, and kissed her deeply. He stopped, and held her there, touching their foreheads together.

Her hands wrapped around his wrists. "What?"

He sighed, smiling gently. "I am so lucky."


	5. Rescue, part 1

_A/N: Takes place a few months after the events of A New Dawn, and a few years before the events of Rebels. CW: Gunshots, drunkenness, and drunk driving, uh, I mean, flying. Part 1 of 2._

* * *

The comlink chirped once.

Kanan lifted his head off the table and stared at it. The world before him swam slightly, and he vowed not to let himself get this drunk again for at least a month.

He was alone on the Ghost, docked in Coronet City on Corellia. Before him, the tiny comlink remained silent on the table among an array of empty bottles. In his head Kanan counted the seconds. At six counts came another chirp, and at eight, the final.

Hera's emergency signal. Kanan swore.

It had been months! She'd told him about the signal months ago. Months! And on all of her oh-so-super-secret undercover missions, she'd been completely fine, so Kanan had thought it would be completely inconsequential if he decided to get as drunk as he pleased…

Kanan swore again, and stumbled around the room looking for his boots.

What kind of emergency, exactly? Did her speeder break down somewhere? Or was it something far worse?

He forced his heavy arms through the sleeves of a long coat, swiped the comlink off the table, and ran from the common room, trying to form a plan in his addled mind.

"Hera?" he said into the comlink, careful to keep his voice down as he sprinted out through the spaceport. "Hera, do you copy?"

Long seconds ticked by and no response came; Kanan's pulse quickened, but it did little to dispel the drunken haze that had settled in his brain. He suppressed a groan. He was on his own here.

He was outside the spaceport in a moment, combing his mind for anything Hera had told him about her mission.

"She said it'd be just another routine op," he muttered as he leaned against a railing overlooking a verdant city park. "What the hell happened?" This place was so peaceful. It was hard to believe the Empire had ever taken a place like this so easily. The night was fairly quiet except for the constant, ever-present hum of speeder lanes and the distant wail of a siren.

 _Focus,_ he told himself.

Okay… It didn't make it easier that Hera had purposely left out a lot of details. _Trust me,_ she'd said. _I trust the contact. Now you trust me. That's all I ask._

Kanan had nodded, and then she'd left him with a few veiled hints… Kanan squeezed his eyes shut to remember. It was… a novel club meeting that she was going to. That was unusual enough for Kanan to remember easily. They were reading novels of a certain anti-imperialist sentiment, and she wanted to hear the group discuss them.

Kanan sighed. That was all he knew. All he could remember, anyway.

Frustrated, he turned to stalk back inside, and rifle through the holonet for any kind of similar-sounding meeting time and place. It was probably futile. What did Hera expect him to do with only three comlink chirps for information-?

Tall buildings threw the echo of distant splattering blasterfire. The sound suddenly commanded Kanan's attention. Was this sudden, or had his dulled senses failed to notice it? He whirled back around (dizzyingly, the world kept spinning after he'd stopped) and charged back to the railing, squinting into the night.

He couldn't see anything incriminating, let alone determine the location of the blasterfire. Chances were, that was probably where he should head. Would it lead him to Hera? Kanan shook his head as he stumbled back inside, nearly colliding with a wandering droid. Who knew? But going somewhere to at least look was better than theorizing here.

He returned, panting, to the freighter that was now the closest thing he had to a home, and as he stood at the loading ramp, it finally fully occurred to him what he had to do: he had to fly the Ghost.

Hera's prized ship, the one he'd been forbidden from flying…. Kanan shook his head. There was no time to call a cab. Running would take too long- and he'd most certainly get lost and miss the action. No, he needed an aerial look to find the source of the blasterfire.

Before him was his only option. Without permission, he had to take the Ghost. And he had to fly it… drunk.

He lowered his head and ran to the cockpit before he lost his nerve. _Come on, you flew Expedient smashed all the time. And Okadiah's hoverbus even more, probably,_ he said to himself. His gut wrenched to think of Okadiah, even after several months away from Gorse. His rescue hadn't worked in time for Okadiah, but he'd succeed this time for Hera. Definitely.

That is, if her emergency signal wasn't just her way of asking him to meet her somewhere for an evening stroll or something stupid. Of course, Kanan might've appreciated the romantic sentiment, but-

"Snap out of it!" he said aloud as he settled into the pilot's seat and hovered his hands over the controls. He couldn't let his mind wander so much. It was time to focus on flying.

He entered the ignition code, having looked over Hera's shoulder enough by now to know it by heart, and with a hum, the engines fired up. Kanan triggered the anti-grav lifters and he saw the hangar bay lowering before him. Once he was over the lip of the hangar opening, he gunned the throttle and swooped over the city, cruising low over the streets.

This wasn't so bad. He was used to this. And, wow, what a ship! No wonder Hera never let anyone else touch it. But the time for joyriding certainly wasn't now.

He set a straight course to follow one of the speeder lanes evenly, and he leaned forward to get a look at the lower levels, where there might be a gunfight…

Fighting against his normal instinct to run from Imperial police forces, he turned extremely cautiously to follow a set of lights he saw flickering against the side of a tall building. Glancing down a narrow alley to his left, he saw it: the source of the flashing lights were three parked Imperial speeders and-

The scene vanished from his field of view, and Kanan reached out with the Force. Hera was close. He was in the right place.


	6. Rescue, part 2

_CW: Blood_

* * *

Kanan gritted his teeth. Now he'd have to put the Ghost down somewhere to get a better look. The ship was too wide to fit between the buildings, and bringing this ship in so close to police activity was definitely a bad idea. Also, he was worried about accidently hitting any of the buildings. Hera would never forgive him if he dented her ship.

Kanan blinked several times and squinted against the flashing lights. Those lights were throwing him off way more than they should've in his drunken state. He groaned. Oh, yes, Hera was going to kill him for sure when she found out what he'd done.

With a rough clump he settled the Ghost on a rooftop landing pad. The Zabrak attendant at the parking booth protested, but Kanan silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Idunneed to pay the parkin' fee," he muttered in a low voice, and the Zabrak repeated his exemption.

Hoo, boy, he even sounded drunk and he knew it. Trying not to laugh at himself, he took a deep breath, fighting for composure. Kanan thundered down a winding set of stairs, having no time to wait for a lift. Finally he fell against the ground level door and tripped out onto the street.

He held his hand against his head for a moment while the world righted itself. The flashing lights ahead were still casting flickering light around every wall. Kanan couldn't remember exactly where they were coming from for a moment, when-

The sound of blasterfire shattered the night and Kanan remembered. Brain feeling suddenly a bit clearer, he launched himself in the direction of the sound.

He felt Hera in the Force, wavering like a candle in a breeze. Steady Hera, wavering? A pit formed in Kanan's stomach when he realized that she really was in trouble, and he was glad he'd stayed awake long enough to catch her emergency signal.

The Force guided him around another corner and across a pedestrian bridge over a ground speedway. Loud shots continued, and Kanan heard yelling. He was getting closer.

And then he saw a few bolts of orange light striking the wall before him. Kanan slowed to a trot. He'd reached the scene of conflict, whatever it was, and he knew Hera was here. Her Force signature was strong, but still flickering. Kanan put the worry out of his head and centered himself.

He ducked around the corner, and there she was, sitting behind a pile of crates.

"Hera!" Kanan hissed, rushing towards her. A green bolt whizzed past his head, singeing a strand of loose hair.

"Kanan!" She reached a hand out for him to catch him. "You got my-!"

"Yeah, as soon as I heard I took the Ghost and…" Kanan's eyes found her palm. It glistened and when he seized it, it felt sticky. "Hera, is this-?" And then he saw the wound on her opposite shoulder. She'd been pressing that hand to it moments before. She was bleeding.

"I'm fine," she said. "I just need to get us out of here."

"Us?" Kanan repeated indignantly. "Hera, what the hell is going on here?"

"The meeting, it…" she shifted, in obvious discomfort. "The neighbors, they don't like non-humans, and they got suspicious, so they called the police. They set up a blockade; we couldn't get out."

"And now it's a firefight," said Kanan. It was a miracle he'd made his way around the roadblocks and the sky-blocks.

"Yeah," Hera breathed. "And I might've taken a hit on my shoulder here." She gave him a half-hearted, apologetic smile.

"Mkay, mkay," said Kanan, nodding calmly. "You can walk, right?" More importantly, could he?

Hera nodded. "Nobody else got hit, so-"

Kanan scowled. "Oh, no." He wasn't going to be responsible for anyone else. Hera was his priority, and he was getting her out of here. "The only person I'm worried about is you. Can you stand?" He took her by the waist and tried to tell himself that he was only staggering because of the extra weight. Careful to stay behind the cover of the crates, he straightened, supporting Hera as well as he could.

"Kanan, we can't leave yet. What about the others?"

"Hera, no one else is here," said Kanan.

"They're hiding!"

Kanan looked around, casting out with the Force to see if anyone else was nearby.

"Hera, they left you," he said flatly.

"No they…" Hera paused, wrinkling her nose. "Do I smell… Kanan, are you drunk?"

Kanan floundered. "Nah, I-"

"You flew my ship drunk?!" Hera asked indignantly, struggling to keep her voice down. "Kanan Jarrus, I can't believe-"

Kanan shushed her. "You're going to give away our location. Yell at me later."

Hera shut her mouth, seething at him weakly.

"You're not doing so good," he commented.

Hera shook her head. She looked pale.

Kanan nodded. He was sober enough for this. Using the Force, he stirred up a gust of air, kicking up enough dust to provide them some cover. He bent slightly, supporting her back, and picked up her knees. He'd carry her out of here.

She protested softly, and Kanan ignored her. Had she been hit with a stun bolt, or was her injury more serious than he'd thought?

A few more shots fired, and the sound of thumping footsteps came down the alley. Kanan ducked and ran, struggling to keep his balance. He thought of all the stairs he'd have to take…

But he went as fast as his body allowed. Hera still protested in his arms, but he ignored her again. "Hera, would you let a man focus?" He needed all his focus to run straight. It was getting easier, but…

At last he reached the doorway he remembered nearly falling out of before. He glanced around behind him. Nobody appeared to be following them.


End file.
